As the gates of Yom Kippur stand open
beckoning us to pass through
memories swirl around us
as leaves in the soft autumn wind.
Memories of music
move us along the road to repentance…
Avinu malkeinu – Our parent, our protector,
inscribe us for a good year.
Shema koleinu – hear our cry and have compassion upon us.
Hashieveinu – return us to You and to our ideals.
P’tach Lanu – open for us the gates that we may enter –
the gates of repentance,
the gates of renewal,
the gates of forgiveness.
Memories of food draw us forward…
The bagels and lox we will soon eat,
that first cup of coffee
breaking the headache and the soul ache
of a long and hard day of liturgy and fasting.
Remembering releases the pain of the recent past…
Kansas City, Gaza and Israel,
Eyal, Gilad, Naftali
Mohammed Abu Khdeir
Of the soldiers and citizens who died in the fight
for freedom, for security, for Shalom.
Remembering releases the pain of those
who were near to us,
relatives, neighbors and colleagues,
whose deaths still sting our souls
whose absence leaves a gaping void in our hours and days.
And remembering releases the pain of the distant past…
The Rabbinic martyrs of old
The six million victims of the Holocaust
Memory is at the heart of who we are…
Our faith depends on memory:
The memory of Torah…
Remember Shabbat and make it holy
Remember our enemies and blot out evil
Remember that we were slaves and
breakdown societal structures and xenophobia, fear of the stranger,
that oppress and enslave.
Our people depend on memory:
Remembering our local Jewish community
Remembering our Jewish brothers and sisters across the globe
Remember our holy land of Israel.
Now is our time for personal memories…
Remembering our mothers and fathers…
their love, their voices, their presence
Remembering our grandmothers and grandfathers…
their wisdom and warmth.
Remembering loved ones who left this world too soon…
our friends whom fate tore away from us
who lifted our days with laughter.
Some mourn spouses who walked the path of life beside them.
The pain of loneliness is perpetual.
Some mourn children whose deaths brought devastation.
Day after day they slowly pick up the pieces
and hold fast to the holiest memories
of their hugs, their smiles, their souls.
These memories are most precious of all.
We would be wanderers without memory
to ground us and to guide us.
Forgetting is frightening.
Yizkor elohim… May God remember…
Nizkor anachnu… May we remember…
And may the memories of those we love inspire us
to move forward and live our lives
so that the memories that we leave behind
will sustain those
who remember us.
